


Play It By Ear

by eiluned



Series: Troika [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Declarations of Love, Angst and Feels, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, F/M, Natasha Feels, Pre-Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:56:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2282619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha had a secret, the kind of secret that could fuck everything up, ruin her job if not her life, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't shake it off.</p>
<p>She was completely in love with Clint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play It By Ear

**Author's Note:**

> Part 8 in the Troika series; takes place after Get Some. Thanks to Amanda and Brittany for the beta work. 
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated! For real, I cherish every single comment I get and will probably get all teary eyed when I read it.

Natasha had a secret, the kind of secret that could fuck everything up, ruin her job if not her life, and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't shake it off.

She was completely in love with Clint.

He didn't know it, of course. She had been in love exactly once before, and telling the object of her affections about said affection . . . well, hadn't gone well, to say the least. She had been taken out of the field for that, for letting herself care about another person that much. She was the Black Widow. Emotions and sentiment were weaknesses.

She supposed she had never been that good a Red Room assassin, because she had fallen in love yet again. Love wasn't a weakness to her, really, but it was something that made her vulnerable. And not just to rejection or unrequited affection; in her line of work, that emotion could be used against her. If an enemy found out, she could be forced to choose between Clint and the mission, and she never wanted to have that choice in front of her.

Despite her reputation, she didn't think any mission could be more important to her than Clint.

So she kept it to herself, hid it deep in the back of her mind, and only let it out to play when she was alone.

Unfortunately, it had started creeping out of its hiding place when she was alone with him.

_I'm in your apartment, fyi. Don't want to surprise you and end up dead._

She smirked at the text message and punched the elevator button for her floor. He'd had a key to her place long before they had become lovers, but he hadn't made the mistake of being in her living room unexpectedly until a few months back. He learned very quickly that surprising Natasha, no matter how romantic the intent, was a bad idea.

The door opened as she walked up to it, and she hid a smile at the thought that he'd been watching through the peephole for her. And then he was all over her, pressing her back against the door as he pawed at the deadbolt, and she hummed into the desperate kiss.

"You were gone too long," he rumbled when she broke away to catch her breath.

"I was gone for two weeks," she replied, dropping her duffel on the floor so she could get both hands on him.

"Yeah, that's what I said. Too long."

With a low grunt, he lifted her off of the ground, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, sucking at his earlobe as he carried her into the bedroom.

"God, I missed you," he said as he dropped her onto the bed and started stripping her clothes off.

Natasha felt her cheeks flush under his gaze. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, like he wanted her more than anything, and it made her heart jump into her throat.

Swallowing hard to get it back where it belonged, she gave him a little smile. "I missed you, too," she murmured, her eyes roaming over his chest as he yanked his shirt off over his head.

He grinned back, and her heart thumped hard. Two weeks had been too long, and when had she gone so soft? It had been a busy mission with little downtime, but Clint had been on her mind when she could spare a second. Hell, she had even started dreaming about him toward the end of the mission. But there was no need to dream now that she was back and he was here in the flesh, hot and naked and climbing on top of her.

The kiss started at her lips and made its way down her neck, over her breasts, down her stomach, and ended up between her thighs. With a gasp, she flung her hands out to the sides, fingers scrabbling at the bedcovers. He could wind her up so quickly like that, and her thighs tensed as he slipped two fingers into her cunt, curling them up as he worked her clit with his tongue.

"Oh my god, yes," she breathed, her back arching in an effort to get even more friction.

Part of her wanted to close her eyes so she could focus on the pleasuring building swiftly in her body, but Clint was watching her intently, and she couldn't look away. Reaching up, he grasped her hand in his, twining their fingers, holding it tight as he doubled his efforts, and it was so good that she couldn't hold back, couldn't drag out the pleasure.

She came with a choked cry that was almost his name, her thighs shaking and her heart pounding. It took a moment for her brain to put itself back together, and when she could think about things other than how good she felt, she looked up to find Clint gazing at her, resting his cheek against her inner thigh.

"Get up here," she said with a grin, and he smiled back, crawling up over her and hitching her legs up around his hips.

"You ready?" he murmured, brushing his lips against hers.

"More than ready," she replied, kissing him so she could taste herself on his tongue.

Bracing himself on his elbows, he sank both hands into her hair, tilting her head so he could kiss her more thoroughly. Squeezing her legs around him, she shifted until she could feel the blunt head of his cock nudging against the mouth of her cunt. With a low hum against her lips, he settled down onto her, his cock slowly slipping inside, and she let out a breathy moan at the feel of her body yielding to him.

"God, I love how you feel," Clint rumbled, pinning her in place with his weight and his gaze. "You're so hot and wet, baby."

"That's what you do to me," she breathed in reply, stroking both hands up and down the curve of his back. "You always turn me on, Clint."

With a low groan, he sank into her fully, and god, she loved the way he looked when he took her. His gaze was so intense, like he wanted to look inside of her, right to the core of her. His pretty blue-green eyes were dark with arousal and his lips were parted, his breath a little uneven, and he was by far the sexiest man she had ever seen. She wanted to fuck him every day for the rest of her life, couldn't imagine ever getting tired of feeling his cock inside of her, his hands on her body, his lips against hers.

God, she had it bad.

He rocked his hips against hers slowly, and a mewl escaped her throat; his groin was pressed right up against her clit, still throbbing from that orgasm. "Tell me what you want," he said, his voice a low growl against her ear, and she arched up at the feel of his teeth on the sensitive skin of her throat.

"I want you," she purred, arching her back and rolling her hips underneath him. "I want to come on your cock. I want to feel you come inside me–"

His moan was gorgeous. 

In a split second they went from a little gentle grinding to full-on fucking, bodies writhing together. Part of her wanted to slow down, to draw things out until they were both desperate, but they were already desperate. Two weeks had been too long, apparently, because Clint was driving into her hard enough to make her toes curl.

"Fuck," he groaned, nipping at the edge of her jaw. "Fuck, Tasha, you feel so good."

She gasped when he suddenly sat up on his knees, taking her with him so she was astride his lap. When she had planted her feet against the mattress, he took hold of her ass with both hands and started fucking her again, lifting her by the hips and working her on his cock.

And _oh_ , that was good. The new angle let her grind against him while each thrust drove the head of his cock against her g-spot, and she wasn't going to last long at all. She clung to his shoulders, tossing her head back so he could get his mouth back on her throat, and it felt so good that it was unbelievable.

It felt so good that her brain couldn't keep up with where her body was on the orgasm spectrum. She was suddenly coming again, her body seizing up as a strangled cry wrenched its way out of her throat.

"Oh _fuck_ ," Clint swore, and the world tilted sharply; he had dropped her onto her back again, driving hard into her spasming body, and with a start, she realized that he was coming, too.

His cock jerked, a throbbing pulse deep inside of her, and though she'd felt it many times before, for some reason this time the sensation was overwhelming. She tensed, held perfectly still so she could _feel_ him, feel the way he poured himself into her, how they couldn't get any closer than this.

He shuddered one last time and collapsed down onto her, a second later rolling so she was sprawled on top of his body. They were both breathing like they had run a marathon, and Clint absently petted at her back where his hand was splayed across her bare skin.

"God, I love you," Natasha murmured.

And she immediately wished she could take the words back because Clint froze, his whole body going tense like it was a fight-or-flight moment. Her stomach dropped, and she pushed herself up, beating a quick retreat to the bathroom, leaving him motionless on her bed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she muttered, turning on the shower and stepping in without checking the temperature, hissing at the too-hot water. "Fuck, Natasha, what is wrong with you?"

She had gone _too_ soft; she couldn't even keep a secret anymore. She was soft and weak, and she had fucked everything up again. Her eyes burned, so she put her face under the spray and let it wash away the unshed tears. Things had been going so well with Clint, and it made something twist deep in her chest to think that she had pushed it too far, screwed everything up by getting too serious.

With the water rushing around her ears, she didn't hear the shower door open, and she jumped when Clint put his hands on her shoulders. And damn him; couldn't he tell that she wanted to be left alone to lick her wounds? She couldn't bring herself to look back at him. She just crossed her arms over her chest and stood stock still, even as he stepped in close behind her and put his arms around her.

"I'm sorry, Nat, you just surprised me," he said, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I didn't mean to… it slipped out," she replied, her mouth working on autopilot; when in danger, deny deny deny. "I didn't mean to say it."

Clint stilled behind her, and this was it, she thought. This was where it all fell apart: their relationship, their partnership, hell, maybe even their friendship. The shame of not being able to keep her emotions in check lodged in her chest like a knife wound. No matter if she left it in or yanked it out, it still hurt like a son of a bitch.

"But… did you mean it?"

His voice was soft, lips nearly against her ear, and she was torn between anxiety at the whole situation and wanting to melt back into his arms. Did she mean it? Of course she meant it, even if she hadn't meant to say it.

"I never lie to you, Clint," she mumbled.

He sighed, his arms tightening around her shoulders. "Tasha," he whispered on a sigh.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her throat threatening to close up, and Clint stilled again.

"Why?"

She had to clear her throat to be able to speak, and even then, her voice sounded weak to her, a little shaky. "I've screwed everything up," she said.

"What? No," Clint said, taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face him, no matter how reluctant she was to do it. "Nat, no. You just shocked me because… hell, I never thought you'd feel that way about me. God, I'm crazy about you."

For a second, she wondered if it were possible for her heart to actually stop. It felt like it had frozen, stunned, in her chest, and a second later, it made up for that pause by trying to pound its way out of her chest. Clint was looking at her, a nervous little grin at the corners of his mouth, and she had no idea how to react. She had spent so much time convinced she could never have the kind of relationship she wanted, that love was dangerous, but he loved her, and she loved him, and she had no idea how to deal with that.

His brows drew together slightly, and he reached up to brush a strand of damp hair away from her cheek. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Natasha forced herself to take a deep breath, to calm down. "This is just scary," she said, dropping her eyes to his chest. "It's never worked out well for me before, and it usually fucks everything up. _I_ usually fuck everything up. I just pretend I have my shit together, and I don't want to get hurt or… or hurt you." 

Clint was silent for a long moment, long enough that dread started to curl in the pit of her stomach again. "Do you love me?" he asked quietly, breaking out of her self-deprecating trance.

Looking up so she could meet his eyes, she said, "Yes."

He nodded decisively. "Okay," he said. "Then we're going to make this work, because I love you back."

It was an odd blend of relief and terror bubbling in her chest, emotions that were completely at war with one another fighting to take over. "How?" she asked, so quietly she could barely hear her own voice over the hiss of the shower. "How do we make it work?"

Clint caught his bottom lip between his teeth for a second. "To tell you the truth?" he said with a self-deprecating grin. "I have no idea. I usually fuck relationships up, too. I mean, hell, you know me. But with you… Nat, I don't want to fuck this up. And I don't think we will, you know? Look at the last few months. We just… _do_ this, and it works, and I'm gonna be honest, I've been crazy about you for a long time. So it's like we're already in a relationship. We just haven't called it that."

That thought made her smile, made a little laugh bubble up in her throat, gave relief the opportunity to overpower the fear that wanted to choke her. For the first time since those words had slipped from her lips, she took a full breath, let the steamy air fill her lungs. For the first time in so long she couldn't remember, she thought that maybe, just maybe, it was okay that she was in love.

She couldn't think of anything to say. She didn't think she could say anything without breaking down because that relief was washing over her and sluicing away years of repression and fear, and it made her eyes burn and her throat feel tight. So she took Clint's face in her hands and kissed him, putting everything she couldn't say aloud into it.

He made a little noise like he was pleasantly surprised, and that noise turned into a soft hum of pleasure as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him.

Groping behind her back to turn off the water, he pulled her out of the shower stall, still kissing her deeply, his hands roaming up and down her back. She wasn't sure if he was trying to get her back to the bed or just to someplace less slippery, but whatever his plan was, it was derailed when she pushed him against the wall, standing on tiptoes so she could rub her wet body against his.

His hard cock was trapped between them, and he thrust helplessly against her, his hands coming down to grip her ass. "Need you," he groaned against her lips, and what breath she had left whooshed out of her lungs.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and with a soft groan, he lifted her off of her feet, carrying her the few feet to the bathroom counter. Her legs went around his waist as he set her on the edge, and she gasped when she slipped a little, her wet skin sliding on the smooth surface.

Clint let out a little huff of a laugh, ducking his head to suck at the curve of her neck, and she tightened her grip on him, pulled him even closer. He wouldn't let her fall, and the thought thrilled her. She didn't have to be afraid of getting hurt because this was Clint; they kept each other safe, took care of each other even before today, and she couldn't help wondering why she had ever been afraid of being in love with him.

Her breath caught in her throat when he slipped inside of her, and it didn't matter that they had already fucked once. He still stretched her in a way that made her moan, made her legs tense where they were wrapped around his hips. Catching her leg in the crook of his arm, he sank deeper into her, pressing their bodies together so close that she could feel his heart pounding in a counterpoint to her own pulse.

Turning her head, she took his lips in a hot kiss, raking her fingers through his damp hair, canting her hips against him. His low groan sent a shot of heat racing through her body, settling to throb in her clit. He hitched her leg up a little higher, pinning it up against his ribs, and her breath stuttered in her lungs. It was a strange sensation, to feel simultaneously trapped and safe, like he was holding her together.

Breaking the kiss, he brought his free hand up to brush her wet hair back from her face, catching her gaze, and her heart started thumping hard again. She felt like a teenage girl with a crush, and the wonderful absurdity of it made her grin at him. He grinned back, his smile blindingly handsome, like he knew what she was thinking.

"God, I love you," he murmured, but she couldn't reply because he was taking her, slowly drawing back and then just as deliberately thrusting deep into her.

Pinned against his body as she was, she couldn't move with his thrusts; she could only hold onto him and feel.

The orgasm built up slowly, so slowly that she wasn't even really aware of it until it was about to break over her. She was wrapped up in him, in the press of his body against hers, the strength of his arms around her, the heat of his kisses, the drag and pull of his cock inside of her. Her breath stuttered in her lungs, her fingers grasping at his skin, and all of the sensation was suddenly too much. She came hard, a heavy pulse somewhere in the core of her, and Clint swallowed her cries in hungry kisses.

* * *

Her bed was soft. She always missed it when she was on missions, and maybe that was a sign of how soft she was becoming, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. Not when she was sprawled on the soft mattress, cocooned in the covers with Clint.

He sighed, and it was a happy sound, one that made the corners of her mouth turn up into an easy smile. _I love you_ , she thought, and as if in response, he squeezed her in his arms, pressing a kiss against her temple.

It was still a little scary, yes, but it was good. She liked being in love with him. As for all the unfamiliar territory before her… well, she'd just have to play it by ear.

That was good.


End file.
